


Forbidden Desires

by KenrakenOkwaho



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag, Blow Jobs, Character Study, Crossdressing, Crossover, Desire, Dirty Talk, F/M, I'm Bad At Summaries, Introspection, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Pirates, Porn With Plot, Post-Curse of the Black Pearl, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Slash, Smut, hypocritical nobles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-04 09:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11552433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KenrakenOkwaho/pseuds/KenrakenOkwaho
Summary: A little bit of introspection on James' part at a fancy event is interrupted by a mysterious woman passing by in a rush.





	1. Fool Me Once

**Author's Note:**

> So there's some kind of fancy event at Swann manor and ole, noble Commodore Norrington was forced to participate, of course. I took some liberties with the design of the mansion, therefore it has a ballroom AND, wait for it... a small balcony on the first floor. It also could take place at some other mansion in Port Royal so whatever suits your taste is just as great.
> 
> I know not how many of you are fond of crossdressing, but I hope your reading experience will be enjoyable. I also did some research on period dresses which wasn't very hard, but it was in vain in the end since it was difficult as hell to picture Jack in one so forgive me if my description is more off than on point... just picture him as some sort of exotic (Spanish, Mexican, Gypsy even - close enough) beauty in a pre-Victorian dress, imagination does wonders :)))) I tried... I really tried.
> 
> Enjoy and leave your opinion in the comments! Feedback is love, feedback is life!

The mellow tune emanating from the piano keys is melancholic as it is boring, men and women prancing around the ballroom in fancy clothes like peacocks flaunting their plumage at a national parade. Commodore James Norrington got tired of this pointless, pitiful and irritating behaviour a long time ago, even before duty compelled him to attend this kind of events. He never enjoyed the conversations unanimously accepted as proper during nights like these, conversations about politics or single-minded perspectives over war or how one of the 'noblemen' managed to seduce some innocent maid into his bed. The fact that he has never been fond of women fawning over him like cats in heat is also a thing that sets him apart from the rest. Yes, he had always felt out-of-place here, too honest and reserved to actively participate in such exchanges. But trying to keep a polite distance and a fairly interested facade is quite difficult, one has to know when to remain silent, when to smile, when to laugh, when to engage, a permanent strategy of controlling actions and emotions so that a pleasant illusion can take the place of a real individual.

 

Assessing his surroundings for the hundredth time this evening, he wonders who the real villains are, the drunk pirates debauching themselves in Tortuga or the modish puppets waltzing around and pretending to be some higher power. He wonders who the real easy women are, the whores selling their bodies on that island of sins... or the maidens giggling with pink dusted cheeks, the same lewd promises twinkling in their bashful eyes. There are times when he too prefers to claim that he is part of the 'civilised' world, that he has no respect for ragged buccaneers and harlots... but, most of the time, he lets his mind show him that these people, these miscreants, deserve more credit for the way they live than all the people breathing in this room with him. Because they admit to who they are, to what they want, because they are not afraid to choose the life of a rat instead of one governed by false pretences and lies. Perhaps that is why he had been smitten with Elizabeth, the fine way she turned out to be, brutally sincere at times, even bordering on discourteous, delicate, yet strong, beautiful and wild. Perhaps that is why he will always be in love with this rare bird...

 

He spots her laughing brightly at something Turner said. Many would think jealousy and anger surge through him when he sees the pair lost in their own little world, but, frankly, James couldn't be more content. The youths deserve their happy ending and he's not going to stand in their way. Maybe he will have one too... someday. From the corner of his eye, he spots the Governor smiling warmly in his direction. That man always knew him better than anyone, better than his own father... both fortunately and unfortunately.

 

A flash of chestnut tresses catches his attention as they pass by in a flurry, gold patterned dress swaying smoothly along with hurried movements. The tenuous swagger is rather unladylike, but, for all he knows, this may be the reason for his unexpected fascination. Excusing himself from the flock of tittering women who literally cornered him ever since the evening's debut, James follows the staggering figure across the parlor. Long, luscious curls bounce playfully down to a slim waist, undoubtedly hugged by a tight corset, gilded embroidery merging perfectly with the pale pink fabric of the gown as it interlaces into a unique swirling motif that widens over the crinoline underneath. To his not so guilty shame, the urge to lift or, better said, rip off the elegant garment takes him by surprise, but it doesn't dishearten his pursuit in the least. When he finally catches up, the two of them are the only ones out on the balcony.

 

Time stops for a few moments when she turns around to face him. If he thought Elizabeth was the most beautiful woman to ever grace his presence, then he would have to take that praise back entirely for he, as hard to impress as he indeed is, has never seen such wild beauty as he's seeing now. Curious eyes can't help but wander, stumbling upon high cheekbones and ruby lips that glisten in the faint light peeking from the ballroom, before raking over the copious expanse of bronzed skin almost glowing in the shadows of the night with mesmerising contrast to the white walls and pallid people around them. Retrospectively, if not for the fine simple dress one would assume the woman is some kind of undercover prostitute with dubious origins. Who knows, maybe she is... He doesn't get to finish whatever his afterthought might have been. Brown abysses meet sea-green waters, twinkling with furtive mischief as they peer into his very soul. They speak of shunned familiarity and silent promises, of frolicsome adventures and of fiery passion. He's seen those captivating orbs before... he's sure he did... but he just can't remember where. The two of them stand still for quite a while, motionless, just staring at each other until he finally summons up the courage to speak, throat dry, palms embarrassingly sweaty at his sides.

 

"Good evening."

 

It's like she was lost in a trance because, the second she hears his accented voice, her gaze lowers to the ground, shy, almost cautious dare he say. Strange. He takes a step forward and he could swear that he notices her trying to suppress a flinch. He takes another and, this time, she instinctively backs away.

 

"Forgive my boldness, but... haven't we met before?"

 

Yet another nearly imperceptible wince. Something's definitely wrong.

 

Courtesy be damned. In only two strides, he's right in front of her, close enough to hear her suspiciously heavy breathing. Lifting his hand, he lets his forefinger caress its way under an unusually sharp and sculpted chin, gently forcing it up so that their eyes can meet. And, when they do, oh, God, when they do, he _**knows**_ immediately why those dark depths of molten bittersweet chocolate called out to his innermost desires.

 

"Thought you could fool me, didn't you, _**pirate**_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two will be up and about only if you, my fellow writers and readers, think it's worth it.


	2. Shame On You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prelude interrupted kisses are my specialty, bear with me, folks.
> 
> Enjoy and Feedback, my official mantra! :))

Slightly panicked orbs stare into somber ones before flickering to the side in a very uncharacteristic manner to avoid eye contact, visibly affected by the close proximity. James, however, chooses to overstep his boundaries as well as his better judgement, resting his free hand on the pirate's corseted waist, motion that rewards him with an almost inaudible hitch. He would have never pegged Sparrow as someone who could act so abashed considering past and recent events, but then again he never thought that the two of them would ever be in this kind of situation or that he would find the infamous Jack Sparrow attractive in a ball gown. A sharp intake of air brings him out of his musings, its obvious purpose being to help the transvestite find the courage to speak, excessively mirthful gaze turning back to his.

 

"Ah, Commodore, fancy meetin' you 'ere. Enjoyin' th' party?"

 

Giving him a once-over, James doesn't try to hide the more or less feigned disdain lacing his words.

 

"Not as much as you, Sparrow. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't run you through where you stand."

 

A smirk spreads across thin lips when the bloody fiend opens his mouth to answer only to find himself at a loss, but it doesn't last long for the baffled expression disappears just as quickly as it has emerged, being replaced by an irritating spark of smugness James regrettably knows all too well. Narrowed eyes watch the pirate lean away a shade farther and, suddenly, he realises what or rather  ** _who_** Jack's scapegoat is.

 

"Darlin', you 'n I both know you wouldn't hurt sweet Elizabeth."

 

The hand gripping Jack's shaved and, subsequently, unusually smooth chin twitches before it shuffles down at his side, aching to touch the intricate hilt of his sword and unsheathe the blade right then and there. Sadly, if he were to give in to this perfectly rational impulse, chaos would undoubtedly ensue and he certainly doesn't have the will or the energy required to put up with that. Thus, in order to halt this instinct, he resorts to letting his hand join the other in perfect tandem on the opposite hipbone, his fingers digging hard into the unfortunate flesh of Sparrow's hip instead of the sharp edges of metal. He also can't say that he isn't enjoying the gasp it elicits.

 

"I hate you."

 

He doesn't quite expect the reaction that follows. Thin, almost feminine arms wind gracefully around his neck, yanking him down with startling force, face only inches away from the tiptoeing pirate.

 

"Jamie, you be good at many, many thin's, but lyin' ain't one of them, luv."

 

It must be the slurred words paired with the stingy aroma of rum that trigger his next move, otherwise he can't explain why his lips are now firmly pressed to voluptuous ones, already asking for entrance with a sensual sweep of his tongue. It should feel wrong, disgusting, immoral on all levels be it psychological or emotional or transcendental or any other level of humanity there is, but the warmth and comfort seeping through his every muscle, sinew, tissue, vein, begs to differ. This, whatever this is, feels so **_right_**. And he dreads the reality of it. What's both surprising, yet not at all, is how welcoming Sparrow is, how pliable his lips and body are, how eyelids fluttered close at the very first brush of their mouths. The intuitive side of him can't shake off the impression that the pirate has been waiting, even anticipating this for a while... maybe James has been doing exactly the same... subconsciously biding his time by letting Sparrow live.

 

By now, it seems like the entire universe, God, Lady Death, Lady Fate, all deities and creatures worked together to guide them to this point. Sparks fly when their tongues glide against each other in a heated dance, stroking all the right spots that set their blood on fire as their spit mingles in hot, wet, languid swirling patterns, golden teeth nipping at his lower lip. It's slow and delicious and full of lust. They are lost to the world, not caring about who might see their frenzied movements on the balcony. Fingers play with the stray hairs of the white powdered wig at the back of his head, occasionally caressing the sensitive skin there with light touches, while his own fingertips tighten their grip on Jack's hips further and further until the Royal Navy officer is sure they'll leave bruises, a dark, almost animalistic **_Mine_** echoing inside his mind.

 

"Commodore?"

 

Their lips part with a fairly obscene pop, a string of saliva connecting the glistening flesh as equally glazed over eyes widen in alarm. The lump that has formed in James' throat almost instantly threatens to obstruct his airway completely, not to mention the proper functioning of his heart. A few moments pass by before he manages to regain the ability to speak, gathering up the nerve to voice his thoughts with a short cough before spinning around to face the person who stumbled upon them, Sparrow concealed safely behind him. When he comes face to face with none other than Elizabeth Swann, he swears his heart skips a beat... or two, colour draining from his cheeks despite the red still dusting them from previous activities.

 

"E-Elizabeth." another attempt at clearing his dry throat "How can I be of service?"

 

A delicate arched brow indicates her evident suspicion, confused and somewhat devious irises boring into his, trying to read him like the open book that he indeed is.

 

"I was wondering if you have seen my father, but it seems I have interrupted something important. Forgive my intrusion."

 

Smiling fondly at her bluntness, he is extremely thankful that she chose to overlook his state of slight disarray and not inquire about the identity of the 'woman' who managed to bring him to such a state.

 

"No need for apologies, you didn't interrupt anything at all."

 

If he weren't a grown and mature man, he would've bawled at the unimpressed, not to be fooled with 'I don't believe you' look. But he is a grown and mature man so he keeps his composure.

 

"Last time I saw your father he was watching you like a hawk a while ago. I haven't seen him since."

 

She stays silent for a few seconds, then nods, a pondering look taking over her soft features, soon to be accompanied by an all too knowing and typical Elizabeth smirk... which should worry him really if he takes into account that nothing good ever happens when this manifestation of emotion decides to surface.

 

"I shall be on my way then. Have a good night, Commodore."

 

How she knew the party was over for him even before he knew it will make him fear her intuition for a long, long time, especially after the next morning, but that's a story for another time and James might or might  not prefer to keep his prestige intact.

 

As naturally rash as Elizabeth is, she doesn't wait for his parting reply, turning on her heel to head back inside, only a faint whisper flying with the breeze whilst he watches her retreating back.

 

"Good night, Miss Swann."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth is such a devious lass :>


	3. Fool Me Twice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... this turned out to be longer than I had planned, but I hope it will be a good read, smut is not exactly my forte yet. I'm trying.

By the time James snaps out of his daze, the elusive pirate is already sneaking a few feet away, trying to climb over the balcony, but having some difficulties due to the heavy gown. This time, he can't stop the exasperated roll of his eyes at such typical antics.

 

"And where do you think you're going, Sparrow?"

 

The immediate shift of Jack's body from relaxed to tense doesn't go unnoticed as he slowly turns to face the Commodore with a characteristic sheepish, bordering on cunning, smile, arms wide open in a friendly manner.

 

"Jamie... luv, I don't want t' impose on your hospitality 'n I'm sure you don't want t' start a fight on such a beautiful night. I propose you let me go 'n we forget 'bout this... accidental encounter. What say you?"

 

An ironic smirk tilts his lips when he hears what he considers as nothing more than a suggestion that he clearly won't follow. Slinking closer with indefinite intent, a deep chuckle begins to rumble in his chest at the memory of what transpired a few days prior when he somehow found in himself the kindness and understanding to let the buccaneer enjoy his freedom for a while longer. In hindsight, the mischievous twinkle staring right into his eyes should've been enough to make him anticipate the man's return, but he brushed the thought away.

 

"What makes you think I would actually let you go again? I gave you a head start, you've wasted it, now your long-distance romance with the gallows shall finally take its course. Although, I can't help but wonder, what was so important that you deemed it necessary to disturb my life more than you already have?"

 

He whispers the last word right into the pirate's ear, breath tickling the sensitive lobe, bodies not quite touching, yet close enough that they can bask in the heat radiating off of each other. Why he is behaving in such an impulsive manner is beyond him and he feels his well-maintained control slip through his fingers with each minute that ticks by. Ever since they met, Sparrow had an alarmingly great influence over his reactions, his mental focus, his feelings, his entire being and damn it all to hell, why did it have to be **_him_**? Why can't he ignore the magnetism sparking between them, pulling them together with a touch of destiny? Why can't he blindly love Elizabeth like nothing changed and just wallow in that emotion, waiting for it to fade away? Why are things never easy for him? All he ever wanted was peace and quiet... and a world free of pirates, but that will probably never happen so he resigns himself only to the first two. Instead, he gets a life completely dominated and often disturbed by said pests, one in particular making it his personal mission to bring out the worst there is inside the Commodore. James hates fate so much...

 

Deep inside, he probably wished to be the recipient of that annoyingly debonair laugh caressing his earlobe in response, full of smugness and of avid promises which only the infamous Jack Sparrow has the nerve to foist on a man like James.

 

"Sorry, mate, tha's for me t' know an' you t' never find out."

 

He shivers when lips glide gently from his ear down to the side of his neck, stopping where skin meets uniform. God, how ashamed he should be ashamed that this goading is actually working, how contrite he should feel when his body quivers with want, loins burning with desire, hips itching to grind into the equally hard flesh hiding under the dress. He should be, but he isn't, he should feel that, but he doesn't because he reached that point of no return where he just doesn't care anymore, he's allowed to pine for whatever and whoever he wants, he's allowed to crush a part of his morality for something and someone he never knew he longed for, he is human and that should be enough reason to give in to sin.

 

Seeing that the handsome Englishman is once again lost in some kind of profound exploration of his inner comprehensive mechanisms, Jack takes advantage of the temporary distraction and carefully backs away a shade in order to try sidestepping the seemingly frozen man. He doesn't get far though, an agile hand grabbing his wrist before he could make his escape and spinning him around into a delightfully hard chest, fingers lifting up to leave a trail of feathery touches from his cheek, down the tanned column of his neck and finally resting on his exposed collarbone. Then, something in Jack's mind clicks, admittedly not for the first time, but he didn't think that he'd ever put his yearning into practice. Letting his free hand slide up to play with one of the buttons completing James' uniform, he leans closer, wicked smirk making his intentions clear.

 

"Aaah, Commodore, you flatter me. Never pegged you as one t' bed pirates."

 

Needless to say, the hand gripping his wrist tightens, green eyes narrowing at the bold statement, but mouth refraining from uttering a words. It's quite obvious that the Royal Navy officer is vexed, yet it's just as obvious that he literally craves for what Jack has to offer. He decides to make things easier for the man. Standing on his tiptoes, heels slightly hindering his balance, he presses his lips to James' inviting ones.

 

It's slow and sweet, almost chaste, a kiss so different from what James had been expecting and he hesitates, not sure if he should indulge himself in the illusion of happy domesticity or walk away with his pride intact. Fortunately or rather unfortunately for him, his instincts make the choice for him, prompting his mouth to kiss back with fervour. When they part, an unspoken agreement shines in both of their gazes, Jack's arm already intertwining with James' as the 'lady' downright drags him back inside in search of a vacant room.

 

By the time they finally spot the unoccupied drawing-room, it's fairly painful to walk for James, not to mention hide the raging erection trapped inside the smaller and smaller confines of his breeches from the many guests roaming the mansion. He doesn't fail to notice that Sparrow is silently laughing at him and his poor attempts to conceal his... ill-bred problem with his _**thankfully**_ long coat. At some point, he could swear that the fiend even tried to expose him, yanking him closer so that the uniform will sway and reveal the bulge in his pants. The bastard...

 

A few feet away from their safe place, James has had enough. Yanking his arm out of the pirate's grasp, he unceremoniously pushes him into the room, gown rustling as he struggles to keep his balance and not fall face-first onto the wooden floor. It's amusing to watch Jack lose the battle with his dress, the man is undoubtedly in for a rapid meeting with the ground. Luckily, said meeting is postponed due to the fact that, as much as James wants to let the buffoon break his nose, it's just no fun kissing a bloody face. That's why his arm winds up around Jack's slim waist, both of them trapped in some sort of damsel in distress pose while, as cliché as it indeed sounds, the world around them fades and it's just the two of them for an eternity. The sudden slam of the door snaps them out of their trance and they jump apart, an awkward tension filling the room, somewhat wilting their desire as their eyes now avoid each other.

 

They stay like that for quite a while until Jack loses his patience and decides to make the first move, invading the Commodore's personal space while reaching out to grab the lapels of his coat to pull him down for a wet, sloppy, _**filthy**_ kiss, tongues swirling inside Jack's hot, moist cavern as he sucks on James' slippery appendage, bodies pressed together like they were meant to form a perfect whole. With each second passing by, the fire inside burns fiercer and fiercer, drowning them in pure, unadulterated lust as they melt against one another, hands desperately aching to rip off the offending fabric impeding further skin on skin contact. Before they know it, papers are flying, glass is breaking and ink is splattering everywhere, ultimately destroying Jack's gown as he is hoisted up onto the desk lurking in the far corner of the room, back glued to the lacquered surface while deft fingers lift his dress to gain better access between his spread legs.

 

"Jamie... hmpf" kiss "You've... ngh... no idea" bite "How much it took me..." grind "T' find this dress..."

 

Complaints seem to fall on deaf ears as he feels that talented and velvety tongue slither its way down to his Adam's apple, nibbling on it before resuming to trail open-mouthed kisses over Jack's clavicle and to a creamy shoulder where he bites down _**hard**_. The gasp it elicits is terribly rewarding... as is the mark left behind by James' teeth, there for _**everyone**_ to see and know that the pirate is _**his**_.

 

When calloused palms push the gown higher to massage his inner thighs, the buccaneer can't help but shiver with pleasure, so tormentingly close to his neglected member, yet so far, fingertips stroking skin just millimetres away from the turgid flesh. A chuckle draws his attention to the fact that James' lips had left his shoulder and now the man is staring at him with mirth.

 

"You're not getting what you want until you tell why you're here."

 

The loud whine effused by the pirate is gratifying in its own right, frustrated and bordering on pure despair, music to James' ears.

 

"No can do, mate, s'nothin' t' do with you."

 

Smirking at the man's stubbornness, he trails a fingertip up Jack's rock-hard length, stopping to lightly scratch the slit at the tip before swiping his thumb over the sensitive head "Then I suppose you don't mind if I leave you like this?"

 

Conflicting emotions play in Jack's eyes, frustration, sauciness, ardor, challenge and, finally, defeat, mind barely working properly with James' hand rubbing his cock sinfully slow . He can't think, he can't talk, teeth sinking into his lower lip until it splits, blood trickling down his chin and down his neck. Still waiting for an answer, the ruffled Commodore bends to lap at the ruby liquid with vigour, smothered mewls spurring him on as he begins to pump, pre-cum already soaking his hand.

 

"D-distraction... mmh"

 

Motions stop, green orbs staring at Jack's flushed face "From what?"

 

"From a ole heartie searchin' for somethin'."

 

Pump.

 

"What?"

 

"Ngh, dunno, didn' tell me."

 

He seems to be telling the truth, but forgive James for not wholly trusting a pirate who has deceived a remarkable handful of times before. Technically, he should send Sparrow to the gaol and proceed to pursue his friend, but he just can't find it in himself to pass up the opportunity of seeing the usually charming and confident pirate become utterly undone underneath him. Thus, he ignore the incessant dutiful tingling in his head and backs away, tugging his casual lover along.

 

"Very well then, kneel."

 

Confused brown irises stare at him, although he is sure that the shorter man only feigns incertitude. His suspicion is confirmed when Jack, oddly graceful, goes down on his knees, pink fabric pooling around him like a sea of petals while his hands slither their way underneath his vest and to the hem of his pants, pulling them down in one go.

 

The relief he feels when his erection springs free from the constricting confines of his breeches is almost unbearable, goosebumps littering his skin when the humid breeze billowing from the open window meets the heated flesh. His breath hitches when he feels Jack's spit-covered lips envelop the tip, sucking lightly on it before swallowing the whole prick in one gulp, tongue pressed against the venous underside. It's pure bliss, so tight, so wet, so hot, the pirate's throat taking him all in to the hilt.

 

For Jack, it's much the same, blood boiling under his skin with every bob of his head, James' cock plundering his mouth relentlessly, heavy on his tongue, filling his throat and coating it with salty fluid. His jaw is sore, his cheeks are burning from exertion and from lust, his own cock painfully swollen under his garments, begging to be touched. Their moans reverberate in flawless tandem as he suckles and scrapes his teeth over the rosy meat, chuckling around it when trembling fingers tangle in his disheveled wig to pull his head away, parted lips slowly sliding up and off with a lewd pop, a string of spit connecting them to the tumescent flesh. With practiced precision, the Commodore yanks him up by the arm, whirling him around to force him down onto the desk and lift the dress past his firm buttocks.

 

Fondling the tanned globes, James lets a finger knead Jack's twitching hole, eyes widening in surprise when the pad goes in without effort. A mocking snicker echoes in the room.

 

"Quite loose. Tell me, Mister Sparrow, have you been preparing especially for this occasion?"

 

"You've no idea. Every night, fuckin' meself on me fingers, pretendin' they were yours, imaginin' your hands on me, bruisin' me, strokin' me. God, how bad I wanted t' feel you inside me, t' make you scream an' groan..."

 

With each word uttered by the filibuster, James' self-restraint and patience diminish, cock aching to push into the tight heat waiting for him.

 

"T' feel your seed fill me."

 

It's all it takes for James' control to snap, hips thrusting forward without further ado. Once sheathed, he doesn't wait for his partner to accommodate, plunging in and out at a fast pace, growling with animalistic fervour as he reaches down to pump Jack's mistreated member, the pirate having lost any verbal coherence long ago, moans and gasps and whimpers leaving his mouth along with the Commodore's name like a mantra. Sweat drips down their foreheads, the sound of skin slapping skin fueling their carnal desire with every thrust while they rut against each other like dogs in heat, so desperate, so primal, so _**right**_. The image they paint is sheer eroticism, bound to turn on anyone who'd get the chance to see it.

 

Neither lasts long, groaning in unison as they spill every drop of cum they have in their sacks, James' dense seed spurting in loads deep inside Jack, filling him to the brim, just like he wanted. He slumps over the pirate's back, breathing heavily, tired, but content. They stay like that for some time, in silence, stuck together like to pieces of a puzzle. When he pulls out, his eyes linger of the dribbles of semen dripping from the abused gaping hole. Just watching this makes his loins spring back to life. Shaking his head, he lowers the wrinkled fabric of the gown, letting it slide over the bruised cheeks as he takes a step back.

 

The last thing he sees before he blacks out is Jack's apologetic smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of plot never hurt anybody, am I right?


	4. Shame On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand this, my fellow archivers, is the plotty part of this weird story with a little crossover. Not my best ending, but it adds a bit of final suspense and curiosity. Hope you like it!

"You could've been gentler, y'know?"

 

Blue eyes twinkle with fond amusement "Any gentler than tha' 'n he'd be awake."

 

"Fair enough. Now put down that fryin' pan 'n let's get goin' before someone sees us."

 

"Aye, aye."

 

The chuckle bubbling up from his companion is contagious, always been, and Jack finds himself laughing along with him for a while, eyes slowly looking down at the unconscious Commodore who deserves at least some appreciation for their tryst in the form of pulling up his breeches. It would be a shame if someone found him lying there with his pants around his ankles. Crouching with a bit of difficulty, Jack does just that, his fellow pirate mocking him with his smug grin all the while. Once the struggle is over, he stands up, stretching slightly before trying to fix part of his beyond salvation dress and ruffled wig. In the end, he doesn't manage to do much to mask the debauched state he is is, but then again, what they did is really not that outrageous if one's to take into consideration that many of the pompous bastards prancing around have things a thousand time worse than this.

 

Staring up at his friend, they nod at each other, a pristine clothed arm reaching out in invitation.

 

"My Lady?"

 

Smiling with all of his golden teeth and fluttering his eyelashes in a perfect imitation of the women parading outside the quiet room, he interlaces their arms as they start walking towards the door.

 

◇◇◇

 

They make it outside with relative ease, a stumble here, an awkward conversation there, only a few stares focusing on Jack's tousled appearance, judging him most likely with their hypocritical flair. No matter, he doesn't really care, let them say what they want, gossip their tongues off if they have nothing better to do. The port can be seen from the main road, dark and quiet by the tranquil sea as they admire it along with the silver rays of the moon.

 

"I see you've brought th' Jackdaw with you. As lovely as ever that ship o' yours, Eddie boy."

 

"Aye, my pride 'n joy."

 

Silence falls as they continue to watch over the silent port, lost in melancholy and gleeful memories until a whisper breaks the quiet atmosphere, sky-blue orbs glancing at the flightless sparrow, bottled up feelings shimmering out of them in spades.

 

"Come with me, Jack, like ole days."

 

Wistful depths close with a sigh "You know I can't, our time has passed years ago, me hearty... 'n I jus' got back th' Pearl, I can't leave me precious Pearl."

 

"Well... you cannot blame a man for tryin'."

 

It's nice and easy, the understanding between them, never asking for too much, never forcing anything, despite how painful it was. Jack has always been thankful for that... people like Edward Kenway are rare, difficult to come by.

 

"Did you find wha' you were lookin' for?"

 

"Aye. Wasn't that hard, the man isn't that smart fortunately... You never asked what I came here for."

 

Jack's laugh is knowing as it is affectionate "I be damned if I e'er ask. I learned a long time ago t' mind me own business when it comes t' you, mate."

 

An equally fond laugh leaves Edward's lungs at the pirate's answer. Despite Jack's silly and seemingly oblivious allure, he always knows more than he lets on, but refuses to get involved if his instincts flare with dangerous vibes, a man intelligent beyond belief under the facade of a foolish buccaneer. It's something to be admired by any man.

 

"A wise choice 'twas indeed."

 

They spend a few more moments in companionable silence before the Welshman speaks again, finality evident in his tone while his right hand clenches into a raised fist.

 

"I'll be on my way then. Take what you can..."

 

"Give nothing back."

 

Blond strands sway with the breeze as Jack watches the man pull up his hood, fading away into the darkness with all the menacing charm of the Assassin he is.

 

◇◇◇

 

When Commodore Norrington wakes up, the playful light of the morning blinds him the moment he opens his eyes, a distant voice calling out to him whilst delicate hands shake him tenderly. It takes a while, but he manages to focus, in the end, eyes landing on none other than Elizabeth Swann. An instant blush spreads across his cheeks when bits and pieces from the previous night flood his mind.

 

"Had an eventful night, Commodore? I'm sure Jack was more than eager to spend it with you."

 

He cannot suppress the shock marring his chiseled features, eyes wide like saucers as his literally turns scarlet. How she knows is beyond him, but he should've heed the warning his gut tingled with alert last night. It's too late now, though, so he doesn't even bother to deny the facts, narrowing his eyes in a poor attempt to regain some of his dignity.

 

"You could at least be thankful I closed the door you know? Everyone could have seen you."

 

Green eyes widen even more if it's possible.

 

"How did you...?"

 

Gleeful brown accompanies the way too self-congratulatory smirk gracing her lips.

 

"A woman's intuition is never to be trifled with, James."

 

Damn that pirate! He fooled him again... and what a pleasurable escapade it was... damn it all...

 

◇◇◇

 

Somewhere, sailing far on the horizon, a sparrow ruffles its soft plumage, Jack folding up his ink-stained gown with a wide smile, full of fiery promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always imagined that, somehow, Jack and Edward Kenway had some kind of connection at some point during their brilliant adventures. So there it is, I can only hope it's not too cringe worthy.


End file.
